Mama Knows Best
by brookemopolitan
Summary: Extensions of a few of the best scenes in 3x18, plus some delicious parental advice that only Donna Smoak could give. Spoilers for 3x18 Public Enemy


This is completely unbetaed and written under the influence of gin and exhaustion. Please be kind.

Influenced by both the episodes and by RosieTwiggs's amazing analysis of Ray's problematic behaviour which can be read from her tumblr account

I'm a poor teacher who owns nothing.

* * *

"Baby girl, you know it's not fair to leave them both hanging," Donna continued.

"Mom, it's not that simple," Felicity tried to explain. There was so much more at stake than just her love life.

"Of course it is," Donna answered. "You need to make a choice before you lose them both."

Sometimes, Felicity _really _hated that despite their many, many differences, her mother could always see right through her bullshit. Despite the role she cast herself in as the dumb blonde, Donna Smoak had her feet firmly on the ground and her head was well away from any clouds- she dealt with what she could see in front of her, pure and simple. For as long as Felicity could remember, she'd been able to weave herself into a tangled web of thoughts, possibilities and probable outcomes. For as long as Felicity could remember, her mother had always been able to cut through all her convoluted reasoning with a single slice of Donna Smoak home wisdom.

Ray was so perfect on paper. He was smart, kind and he listened to her…

"Given that you're not exactly jumping for joy that a handsome billionaire just told you he loves you, I'd say you've already made up your mind."

Felicity couldn't even answer her mother. Sure, Ray listened to her when he pinged her GPS on more than one occasion and when he turned up to her home unannounced. He was kind enough to use her technical expertise without giving her a full understanding of what they were working towards and it was certainly kind of him to buy out her best friend's company so that he could force her to work for him. And he was smart enough to realise that if he exposed Oliver's secret, he would be exposing Felicity along with him.

Her mother was right. She had made her decision.

"You should come and visit me more often, Mom," Felicity declared, leaning over to peck her mother's cheek. "I have some stuff I need to do, but you've still got your key to my place, right?"

"Are you doing something that has to do with that decision?" Donna asked.

God, she hoped her Mom didn't see the news. "Maybe," she answered.

"Felicity Megan Smoak, you had better be going after what you want," Donna's tone was eerily reminiscent of the time she'd found Felicity awake at 3am, tinkering away at a super computer when she was in the eighth grade. "Besides, you're my daughter."

"I know that?" Felicity replied, wondering where her mother was going with her train of thought.

"Felicity, when have you not gotten something you wanted when you put that big mind of yours to it?" Donna asked her. "I know you, baby girl, better than you know yourself sometimes. You're just going to have to put your mind to getting somebody out of being terminally unavailable."

Felicity wrinkled her nose. Her mother was, as usual, right on the money, but also not unusually, had precious little practical advice for how to actually change her circumstances; short of suggesting an accidental pregnancy and shotgun wedding. "Don't wait up for me," Felicity told her, pulling her Mom into a tight but brief hug.

"You know I will," Donna responded, wiggling her fingers and trotting down the hallway, leaving behind the signature scent of her perfume.

Felicity took a steadying breath, squared her shoulders and walked back into Ray's hospital room. Before he could go and say something even more ridiculous than a hospital bed confession of love, Felicity Smoak had yet another moment of complete and utter poise and dignity as she blurted out, "This isn't going to work."

"The nano tech?" Ray asked, a puzzled expression creeping across his face. "Because I'm pretty sure the guy in the white suit said I was all good."

"No," Felicity interjected, before she completely lost her nerve. "This," she repeated, gesturing between the two of them.

"Oh," Ray muttered, eyebrows furrowing.

"You were ready to make a choice last week," Felicity reminded him. "A choice that would have not only led to my best friend being arrested, but it would have landed me in a cell right next to him," she paused. "Well, not literally next to him because I'm pretty sure Iron Heights has separate sections for men and women, but that's actually not the point." She drew a deep breath. "If you love someone, you don't try and have them sent to prison," she told him.

"Felicity, that's not…"

She raised her voice to drown him out, determined not to let him use his words to try and manipulate her into changing her mind the way that he had so many times before. "Just like you made a choice to use me to steal my best friend's company out from under him. Then you chose not to disclose your full plans for the Super Suit, but you were happy for me to work on it anyway, even though you were well aware you were planning on using it for illegal activities. Illegal activities I had no choice in being involved in, if you recall, because I was working on that suit long before I realised you were arming it so you could use it to take down anybody who you happen to disagree with."

"Felicity, I think you're jumping to conclusions. Don't say something you'll regret," Ray cautioned her.

Felicity fought the urge not to roll her eyes. She knew exactly what she was saying and it felt damn good to put feelings that had been irking her for months into words. "Or we could talk about the fact that you used the leverage that company provided to harass me into working for you and then you tricked me into wearing jewellery I wasn't comfortable with wearing so I would help you buy out somebody else."

When she said it out loud, it sounded so much worse than she'd ever thought it was. "And that's before we start talking about the fact that you pinged the GPS of my phone more than once, even though I _told_ you not to and then you _turned up at my house _and waltzed in, completely uninvited."

Ray didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed at that.

"You seem like the perfect guy on paper, Ray, but then you go and pull this Christian Grey style shit and act surprised that I have enough backbone to say I want something different," Felicity told him. "I can't keep living like this and I won't. We don't work, despite the fact that we probably should. We don't work, because you're not over Anna and I'm in love with somebody else."

There, she'd said it. She'd said the one thing that she prayed would may Ray realise that she was unequivocally unavailable. "I'm sorry," she offered. "I thought I could move on from it."

"But he's not the kind of love you move on from," Ray supplied.

Felicity shook her head. "Nope," she agreed. "In fact, I'm pretty sure he's it for me. Just like Anna was for you."

Ray was hurting. It was as clear as day to anybody with eyes. "Well, I hope he makes you very happy," he offered.

Felicity walked over to Ray's bedside and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Ray."

With that, she picked up her handbag and walked out of the hospital, ready to rejoin her team.

* * *

Felicity knew that nobody associated with Team Arrow were in the good books of the SCPD, but she wondered exactly what they'd do if she threw up in the middle of their interrogation room… listening to Oliver talk about the only play he had left, Felicity truly worried that she was going to vomit all over the concrete floor.

"Guys, could we have a minute?" she asked. Roy and Diggle exchanged looks, but nodded none the less, quietly vacating the room.

Oliver's frown became more pronounced, but Felicity seized the boldness she'd felt earlier in the evening and steeled herself up. She pushed her thumb against one of the devices she'd been working on- it put the camera feed on a loop and killed any microphones in the room. Nonetheless, she perched herself on the table so that she could whisper in his ear. "You better have a play."

"Felicity, this _is_ the play," Oliver replied. "I won't become head of the League and I won't let Ra's continue killing people to try and persuade me. The choice is out of his hands."

God, he was so selfless… selfless to the point of martyrdom. "Listen to me, Oliver Queen," she hissed, her hands reaching to grasp the collar of the plaid shirt he wore. "I love you," she told him, her words slow and clear so that he could make no mistake. "And apparently we only tell each other that when we're in life or death circumstances, which really makes both of us insufferable assholes." She paused. She needed to make her point before she was dragged out of the room kicking and screaming. "But I want to change that. I want to tell you that I love you every day until I'm so old and senile that I forget how to say those words, so Oliver, _please,_" she was pleading now. She didn't care how pathetic that was. "I need you to have a play so I have the chance to do that."

She leaned forward suddenly and kissed him. There was no gentleness in this kiss… only the clacking of teeth and Felicity's nails tracing every inch of Oliver's frame she could get her hands on, as if she could memorise him by touch alone. "I love you, even when you're being a noble dumbass," She told him when she pulled away.

"And I love you," Oliver replied, his voice thick with emotion. "Even when you're being painfully stubborn."

She gave his cuffed fingers a squeeze. "We're going to figure this out, one way or another. You know that, right?"

Oliver lifted her fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "That's what scares me," he answered. "Now go, before Lance drags you out of here."

* * *

Felicity felt as though she'd left a part of herself in that tiny interrogation room. She couldn't shake the feeling that she'd missed something painfully obvious as she slowly made her way back to her apartment from the foundry, desperately trying to summon her happy face so that she wouldn't have to explain to her mother why she wasn't having lots of sex (in a hospital or otherwise) and babies with Oliver Queen.

It hit her.

She pulled out her cellphone, hitting one of her most regularly called numbers. "Diggle," she snapped, not interested in pleasantries. "Diggle, where the hell is Arsenal?"

* * *

Okay, look. To be fair, I don't actually blindly hate Ray. I do hate that he's largely a plot piece, so he's inconsistent at best because he's being used to move the narrative forward rather than out of any sense of motivation. I really enjoy him when he's actually a character (that monologue about "you don't get to tell me what Anna would want" to Felicity is just divine), but he so rarely is a character that really, all I see is his creeper tendencies, which are the result of poor writing.

Is there a way to fix him? I don't know.

Thoughts?

Play with me on twitter! brookemopolitan :)


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